


Half-Doomed, Semi-Sweet

by pandon



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: F/M, Genderswap, Girl!Pete, Peterick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-27 23:29:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19799995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandon/pseuds/pandon
Summary: “We both sipped coffee, daintily at first as if not to disturb the silence even though our eyes seemed to be screaming at each other.”Drabble #4 of our Ot3 Drabble Collection





	Half-Doomed, Semi-Sweet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bottombeeb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bottombeeb/gifts).



> “We both sipped coffee, daintily at first as if not to disturb the silence even though our eyes seemed to be screaming at each other.”

They had dreams and ambitions. Hopes of bright lights on a stage and guitars in their hands. Calluses on their fingertips that meant hard work, dedication. Thousands of screaming voices, pouring Pete’s own lyrics back into her heart via her ears. 

They were supposed to be something grand. Patrick was the golden ticket, he was going to be the one to make Petra’s dream of changing the world through her music possible. She was the little emo who could and his voice was the engine that would drive her to every station - all the way to the top.

Pete’s order at any coffee shop on the planet contained way too much sugar and various flavors to be considered anything close to actual coffee, whereas Patrick’s rare cup of coffee consisted of simply that. Nothing fancy, easy to pronounce, no list needed to double check and be sure that the order was correct. Things were so out of balance with them that neither noticed their drinks had been switched accidentally.

Patrick was 20 years old. He had a whole life, a whole career, a whole world of opportunity ahead of him. He had something special, more than just the gift of his phenomenal vocal chords. He had a star power that Pete wasn’t sure he would ever accept or recognize, but it was there, bubbling under the surface and begging to be set free.

Petra was 24 years old. She had this thing, this  _ spark _ , about her that would make anyone’s head spin. Up and down, round and round, you never knew where you were going with her, but you always knew it was going to be worth it in the end. She had the mind of a poet, the heart of a wounded puppy, and the mouth of a drunken sailor. 

Since the first day a shy and awkward Patrick had walked into their practice room to show off his skills on drums, Petra was smitten. He was nothing like any guy she’d ever set her sights on, nothing like the guys who chewed her up and spit her out on a regular basis. He put up with her mania without a single complaint, from day one. All the things about her that other people deemed flaws or inconveniences were never that to him. She was a puzzle, sure. But not one that was unsolvable and certainly not one that made her any less captivating.

They’d danced around each other for a few months before one drunken kiss after a show changed everything. She had pulled him into her space in the alleyway behind the venue, giggling into his mouth as her hands clung to the sweaty fabric of his t-shirt. The kiss was sloppy, nothing spectacular in terms of finesse, but the heat between them, the curling tendrils of fire inside of her that came alive...well, that was something else entirely. That was the end of  _ just friends _ and the beginning of  _ them _ .

It had been everything that young love always is: staying up late to talk about everything and nothing all, spending every moment together glued to each other’s side, shoving each other up against any available surface to devour the other with their mouth, an ache in their hearts when they had to be apart for more than a day, and the butterflies in their stomachs that never intended to stop fluttering. It was bouts of insomnia that could only be cured by Patrick’s warmth and his soft voice singing her to sleep. It was waking up at ten in the morning and knowing that it would still be a few hours before the snoring lump in her bed was awake and ready to face the world with a cup of tea. It was kissing until their lips were numb and sneaking off into the dressing room to leave their mark. Mission ‘sex at every venue’ was alive and well.

Patrick’s eyes were scared, contemplative. Pete’s were anxious, searching. They both realized their drinks were wrong at the same time, the silence between them suddenly interrupted by a gag from Petra and a cough from Patrick. They stared down at their mugs in disgust before bursting into laughter. It was the kind of laughter that pours from your lips when you're nervous, when everything you love is hanging by a thread, when your whole world might just fall apart if you breathe wrong. It was defeated and heavy and maybe even a little hysterical, but it was laughter nonetheless. She wondered if it would be the last time she’d ever hear him laugh. He wondered if he could ever possibly tire of the sound of her laughing.

The pregnancy test on the counter at home was somehow also here, hanging between them, the ominous positive sign burned into their minds. 

  
  
  
  



End file.
